And the Hardest Part of This is Leaving You
by ZeppZia
Summary: "I guess I'm not the man either of our dad's wanted me to be." - Dean Winchester. A drabble inspired by this quote/scene of Supernatural. Destiel.


Dean knows that he doesn't have much time left. Sam, normally loyal to Dean's bedside, promises Dean that he'll be "right back," and runs to grab some food from the vending machine on the lower level.

Castiel avoids Dean now that he's confined to a hospital. It strikes a chord with Dean, that his own best friend doesn't want to see him, but he does what he always does with his emotions _-_ he bottles them up and pretends they never existed. So when Castiel appears at the foot of his bed, he's a little surprised.

Dean looks at the angel, forcing a pained smile onto his face once he realizes there can only be one reason the angel is here. "Soon?" The normally emotionless angel averts Dean's eyes, and says nothing. Dean chuckles, but there is no humor behind it. "Look at what this life has brought me to. What have I accomplished? I fucked up things for Sammy. And I must've done something to you since I haven't seen you in a _year_." Any other day, he'd be yelling at Castiel for deserting him and Sam like that, but knowing he's in his final moments, he finds himself at peace with his anger towards Castiel.

"Wasn't I supposed to save the world? Wasn't I supposed to be your dad's 'chosen one'?" He scoffs. "Guess my services are no longer needed." Something about the way Castiel looks at him makes him uneasy. Combined with the silence, Dean feels like he's left out of the loop. "I can't protect Sammy anymore either. Not with these tubes and these... these fucking machines," he practically spat out the last few words, weakly gesturing to the instruments in the hospital room. "I guess I'm not the man either of our dad's wanted me to be."

The room goes completely silent, the only sounds being the steady beep of the heart monitor and the dull buzz of conversation in the next room over. Castiel comes closer to Dean. _Too close_, Dean thinks, but he doesn't make a move to scoot away.

The angel awkwardly sits in the chair next to Dean, pensively reaching for his hand, but changing his mind at the last second and placing it on his shoulder, where he'd left his impression, instead. "Your existence was never futile, Dean. You've helped more people than you take credit for, including Sam and I. You were the one that taught me I didn't always have to meet my Father's standards. You shaped me into a new person, per se. I never anticipated I would become attached to a human, or begin feeling emotions like one as well. Most importantly, you taught me how to be happy."

When Castiel is clearly finished speaking, Dean lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding. "Cas..."

That's all Dean manages before the angel's lips press to his. Both of their eyes are open, Dean's from shock and Castiel's from curiosity, and the experience is more awkward than Castiel intends it to be. He looks away and breaks the kiss, leaving the hunter stunned.

"My apologies. I meant you no discomfort. I had hoped for the opposite outcome." Castiel removes his hand from Dean's shoulder now, withdrawing into himself, contemplating vanishing to a less tense place, maybe a meadow. He discards the idea, remaining seated.

Dean rubs his eyes, sitting up a little taller and more rigidly, wondering if what just happened actually _just happened_. "Why?" He finally asks, "W-why?"

Castiel tilts his head like it's the most obvious thing in the world, staring at him with those impossibly blue eyes. "It's what one does when they're in love," he says plainly.

"_What_?" Did he hear him right? The hunter looks at Castiel, fear, confusion, shock and a bit of something else reflected in his green irises. "Cas, you're not in love with me." Dean sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than the man in front of him.

The angel opens his mouth to reply but suddenly pauses. He looks up with an intense expression and whispers something in Enochian, something that sounded like pleading. Dean watches him, realizing that his vision is slowly fading.

_Very soon._

Castiel takes notice and picks up where their conversation had left off. "Yes, Dean. And I know what love is. I am not as naïve as I once was. I do not care if the feeling is mutual, I only wish you to know."

Dean takes a deep breath and nods curtly, his head lolling more than it normally would have. He licks his lips, tasting something that can only be described as "Cas", and holds his open palm to Castiel. With what very little time he has left, he can't afford to have some homophobic meltdown because Castiel's in a male vessel and is his best friend. He just accepts it.

"I'm not gonna beat around the bush, Cas, I'm pretty sure I love you, too." He'd rather die happy than with a regret; he knows what happens to spirits with regrets.

Castiel scans Dean over before placing his hand in Dean's, allowing a bittersweet smile to briefly cross his features. "I am glad, but I am also more upset." He frowns, even when Dean gives his hand a small, yet strong, squeeze. "I wish I could do more for you."

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees a familiar face, one that would normally send a wave of panic down his spine, but he welcomed her now. He's ready. He grabs Castiel by the back of the neck, pulling him in for one last kiss. This time, he keeps his eyes open to memorize the blue in Castiel's eyes. He didn't want to forget. "You've done enough," he mutters against his lips, feeling tears fall down his cheeks. The hunter doesn't recall beginning to cry.

"Dean," the woman said, approaching the two. Castiel moves to pull away from Dean, but he doesn't get far with Dean cupping the back of his neck. One look into his eyes and Castiel can see that Dean doesn't want him to leave. The reaper, Tessa, put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Are you ready?"

Dean squeezes Castiel's hand, as the angel hears his last words. "I'm ready."

Moments later, Sam re-enters the room, carrying various snacks and a bottle of water, when he notices Castiel leaning over Dean's body, and the heart monitor flat-lining. The angel slowly rises to his feet, placing Dean's hands to rest on his stomach. Sam feels his stomach clenching at the scene unfurling before him. "No," he mutters, just above a whisper.

Castiel makes eye contact with Sam, his metaphorical heart swelling with grief and empathy. "I'm sorry, Sam."

* * *

Castiel hasn't forgotten Dean's voice, not even one thousand years later, when he's watching the human race progress further and further, despite the significant decrease in the population. Castiel would from time to time visit Dean's heaven, but the hunter's never aware that Castiel was more than his memories.

When Dean had died, Sam's heaven turned from his days of freedom, to times with Dean. Occasionally, Castiel would bend the rules, allowing Sam to cross over into Dean's heaven or vice versa. Over time, the brothers became aware of where they were and just what was happening, and they never complained. They quietly thanked the angel of Thursday whom they correctly assumed was responsible. In those moments where they found themselves sitting in Ellen's bar, discussing life and philosophy with Ash, Jo, and Ellen, they are at peace.

Still, it amazed Castiel that Dean's fondest memory, the one that seemed to loop the most, was that day he died in the hospital, kissing Castiel.


End file.
